


Your Arms They Keep Me Steady (So Nothing Could Fall Apart)

by AccioLibros



Series: thebellarkes [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kitchen Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6563251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccioLibros/pseuds/AccioLibros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke cooking dinner is immediately put on hold when Bellamy comes home from work and can't keep his hands off her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Arms They Keep Me Steady (So Nothing Could Fall Apart)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic from the Bellarke blog I'm running with a few lovely people.  
> You can find the blog and the original post [here.](http://thebellarkes.tumblr.com/post/142750885725/)
> 
> Title is from "Yours" by Ella Henderson. It can be found on Eirin's amazing Bellarke fanmix [right here.](http://bobmorleyisking.tumblr.com/post/142320646236)

****Clarke liked to cook, but she did it too rarely. Three times a week she’d get home late from work and Bellamy would have dinner ready for her. Two days a week they would have leftovers or simply order in. The remaining two days, Wednesdays when she got off work early and Saturdays when she finally had excess energy, she would cook.

She would have her playlist in the docking station and the volume turned up enough for her to confidently sing along. She would sway her hips by the stove and try to hit the high notes she could never hit.

Today she continued to sway her hips as Bellamy came home from work. She heard him close the door, drop his bag in the hallway, toe off his shoes. She knew he’d be in the kitchen any moment now, which subconsciously made her rock her hips just a tad bit more to the rhythm of her favourite 80s song.

He didn’t say anything as he entered the kitchen. She heard him pause, heard him take in a deep breath. And then his feet moved and before she knew it he was pressed up against her back.

His hands grabbed onto her hips and pressed her close to him while his lips pressed lightly against the column of her neck. She was happy she’d put her hair up in a messy bun before cooking as Bellamy’s unrestricted access to her neck in a combination with the feeling of his growing erection pressed against her back was already driving her wild.

“Hi,” Clarke said in a small giggle, happy about having him home, happy about his blatant need for her.

“Hi.” His voice was gruff, a dark and rumbling sound from his chest. Hearing it again after 9 hours made her sigh.

Bellamy traced a hand up her torso to fondle her breasts through her top and bra. He moved his other hand down, rubbing teasingly, but firmly, over the seam of her jeans.

“Stop that, I’m cooking,” Clarke said, though her statement lacked all conviction as her head fell back against his shoulder in the very same breath.

Bellamy only hummed in reply, but continued his amorous groping. He moved his lips up her neck and scraped his teeth lightly over that special spot behind her ear before he kissed it with an equal amount of purpose and devotion.

The next breath out of Clarke was a half sigh half moan. He knew he had her then. That specific moany sigh was always the biggest tell-tale sign of her surrender to him. It always made him even crazier for her.

He moved to the button of her jeans, unfastening it and sliding the zipper down. His hand passed the lacy undergarment and moved easily through her patch of curls before he had her fully cupped in his hand.

“The food’s gonna burn,” breathed Clarke into his neck. Her eyes were already closed, lost in the feeling of her boyfriend’s hands, body, and lips against her.

Bellamy moved a finger between her folds, tracing some of her wetness from her entrance to her sensitive nub, distracting her enough to not notice how he removed his hand from her breast, switched the stove off, and pushed the frying pan aside. He then moved his arm around her torso, keeping her firmly against him as he moved them to the clear counter.

Clarke had already lost herself in his touch. He knew just how to pinch her nipple and twitch his fingers against her clit to make her see stars. At first she barely noticed he’d bent her over the counter, her cheek pressed against the cold surface and her breasts positioned just by the edge of the counter, perfect for occasionally pressing against her nipples. Her arms were over her head on the counter, ready to brace herself against the tiled wall of the cooking area.

It wasn’t long after he’d pushed his long fingers inside her that she knew she needed more. She needed him inside her. Properly inside her.

She knew he loved her begging. He always had. At first she had thought it was about his ego, which she had mistakenly perceived as blown out of proportions. Later, as she got to know the messy-haired man with constellations for freckles, she’d realised he needed the validation. He needed to know he was needed, that someone wanted him. She had given him what he needed ever since.

“More, please, Bell- I need you. Now. Please. I- I need you inside me.” The words were broken by moans and heavy breaths accompanied by the wet sound of his fingers moving in and out of her.

“As you wish, Princess.”

The next eight seconds were excruciating for Clarke. That was the time it took him to remove his fingers from her, lick them clean of her juices, push her jeans and the thin lace of her underwear down, and free himself from his own jeans. It was eight seconds without his hands on her, eight seconds of needy waiting, eight seconds of anticipation.

One of his hands moved to the small of her back. He slowly moved it down her backside, kneading the flesh of her ass while his other hand slowly stroked his hardening erection.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Clarke.”

“Please, just fuck me, Bell. Please. I need you so bad.”

Bellamy’s groan in reply was precious to Clarke. It was a sound so purely _Bellamy._ A sound that always made it tingle down her spine in a way that ran straight to her core. It was the sound of his desire for her.

He moved his hand further down to spread her cheeks slightly apart and Clarke widened her stance as much as possible with her jeans pushed down to her knees.

First she felt him move his hard member slightly over her, a move that always made her more frustrated and more inpatient, but also a move that spread her natural juices over his erection and made it easier for him to enter her in one long, slow push, which he did not long after.

She would never tire of the feeling of him filling her up, just like he would never tire of the snug feel of her wet heat around him. They took a few seconds to revel in each other, to revel in their closeness, to get accustomed to the feeling of each other.

When those seconds were up, Bellamy moved his large hands to her hips and started to extract himself from her and push back in. He moved slowly at first, until Clarke begged him to fuck her like he meant it and he lost himself in her wanton words.

His hands dug deeper and deeper into her hips as his hips moved faster. His control was gradually slipping with the sight of his beautiful girlfriend pushed over the counter in front of him as he pushed into her from behind with reckless abandon. Her breaths and moans were growing louder and the occasional swear word or sigh of his name drowned out the music from the docking station from his ears.

The sounds of skin slapping together, her wetness as he moved in and out of her, and his grunts were all contributing factors in driving Clarke quickly to the edge.

She could also feel her juices wet on her thighs. He got her closer and closer to the edge of her orgasm, she got wetter and wetter with each push and pull and grunt and moan.

“Clarke- I’m close, Princess… I need you to come for me. Come. Please come, Princess.”

And she did. His low grumble of a voice somewhere behind her and the tightening of his hands on her hips at his words sent her over the edge, complying with his request. She would always be there when he needed her and he did now.

With a shuddering breath and a low, high-pitched scream she came apart around him, spamming so hard around him he had to lay his arm down her spine and the other around her stomach to ground her to him and the counter as she let completely go.

When he knew she’d gotten as much as she could a switch flipped inside Bellamy and he could let go too. He came in hot spurts inside her, barely able to keep standing as he finished his load, and slumped slightly against her on the counter. He locked his legs, but otherwise stayed still, keeping his softening erection inside her for a few more moments.

“I’ll never regret starting on the pill,” mumbled Clarke against the countertop as she laced her fingers with his, now his hand was close to hers.

“The best decision you ever made.”

“When did you switch the stove off?”

“Before I moved us over here.”

“Mmm. Good. You can do that again any time.”

“Switch the stove off?”

Bellamy could feel Clarke’s light giggle against his chest.

“No, silly. Take me in the kitchen again. Fuck, this was good.”

“Yeah, it was.”

He left a small kiss on her skin, as close to her shoulder as he could come for her shirt, and then extracted himself from her, already missing the feeling of being buried deep inside her.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you liked it!
> 
> Remember, you can find my shared Bellarke blog here: [thebellarkes](http://thebellarkes.tumblr.com)   
>  My The 100 blog is here: [autumnkru](http://autumnkru.tumblr.com/)   
>  And my main blog (Marvel, Star Wars, The 100 + more) here: [reytheblakes](http://reytheblakes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
